


Before it's forgotten or taken away

by j_whirl44



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 161 spoilers, M/M, Martin's POV, Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_whirl44/pseuds/j_whirl44
Summary: In a safe house in Scotland, feelings are know.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Before it's forgotten or taken away

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: All dialogue, except the last line, used in this chapter came directly from MAG 161- Dwelling and was then therefore written by Jonny Sims and not me. I take no credit for it!

Martin couldn’t sit by the windows anymore, the whistling winds of the terros outside were too loud and the hairs on his whole body stood straight up whenever he got too close. So he’s taken to sitting on the floor and tries to not spend his days staring at the door of the small safehouse. He wanted to do something. To make things right. For everyone. For Jon. 

He shouldn’t have left Jon alone that night. It’s not like he wanted to take walks alone anyway, ever since being pulled from The Lonely he’s really not wanted to spend any time alone, but Jon needed a statement and Martin  _ really _ needed tea, so he went anyway. He remembered feeling a hollow pit form in his stomach as he was in line at the shop to check out. His skin burned hot and he swore he saw the spiders crawl down the cashier’s desk and out the door. Accompanied by screams from a distance outside. He dropped everything and rushed back to the safehouse, but it was too late. He found Jon passed out on the floor, hands over his face. The skies above them seemed to open up; the clouds created a spiral shape.

That was, by Martin’s attempted count, only three weeks ago and whatever hope he had of this blowing over quickly fizzled out. As if that was ever really an option in the first place.

He read the statement before Jon could stop him and the fear and rage bubbled over in him so violently he remembers puking onto the floor. Since then he’s only thought of one thing: Killing Jonah Maguns-or Elias-whoever. He didn’t quite care at this point. As he thought about it he laughed. He supposed he already had the chance to do it, and in hindsight, if that had stopped whatever this was, had stopped Jon from hurting, he would’ve done it with only faux hesitation.

Maybe that should scare him now. His sudden willingness to murder, but maybe Peter rubbed off on him far more than he cared to admit. Or it was something else in the bitter air that now covered the atmosphere.

He didn’t remember a lot of his time inside The Lonely until now as it started to creep up on him in his dreams.

He’s been waking up freezing and his chest hollow a few times now. Each time he came to, however, he’d register the warmth of Jon’s arms around him and then he’d be grounded in whatever reality was again.

Last night, he remembered clearly how he told Jon he loved him. He blushed, wondering if Jon remembered that too. If he did, Martin was a mixture of both thankful and worried that he hadn’t brought it up.

Regardless, they were together now, that much he knew. The first night they were here Jon kissed him. It was quick and gentle and left Martin a bigger stuttering mess than usual. Jon even joked he wouldn’t do it again if that’s how he was going to react every time. Now more than ever he wished he could go back to that moment and just keep them both there.

He felt silly worrying about things like this during the end of the world. But dammit he thinks he’s earned it.

Nevertheless, he can admit Jon here with him helped. If nothing else so Martin can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s okay. It can’t exactly feel good to know you started the end of the world and Martin wants to help him in any way possible.

Though not through tea anymore, apparently.

Martin had begged him not to listen to the tapes that mysteriously came with the deceitful statement. That nothing good would come out of it and though Jon promised he wouldn’t but Martin heard him listening to them later when Jon must have assumed he was asleep. He couldn’t be mad, he didn’t have the energy to be.

But now he was still listening to them. Over and over Jon was torturing himself and Martin just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s been too long; he hasn’t heard anything from Basira since the only phone box available was  _ outside _ and he was worried. The Institute was probably safe from this but the true radio silence didn’t help his nerves.

He knocked on the door as Jon finished listening to his birthday tape again.

And then it turned into another conversation of Martin trying to get Jon to sleep. He knew he hadn’t and It hurt Martin to see Jon so defeated. To hear it in his voice. See it in his face.

Then he heard Gertrude’s tape. He was shocked at first, from the mention of Sasha to the way Gertrude had it all figured out. How she seemed to have a plan that was going to work.

Except it didn’t.

If only she’d been here to help them. For a second Martin felt completely lost until he saw that same feeling echoed onto Jon’s face.

“Can you imagine,” Jon said, “if we had this-”

“But we didn’t though, did we?” Martin said back with a bite that wasn’t expected by either of them.

Jon’s shoulder dropped as he lowered his head, “no.”

“So there’s no point in dwelling,” Martin said, Jon sighed, “this isn’t healthy.”

“Healthy?” Jon said with a bitter laugh, “I am an avatar of voyeuristic terror who’s unquestioned craving for knowledge has condemned the entire world to an eternity of torment healthy it’s not-”

“Fine fine I get it,” Martin said.

They’ve had this conversation before, probably a dozen times. Martin wanted so badly to shake the self loathing and pity from Jon and get him to wake up and see that this can’t be the end. It can’t be. Martin spent so much of the past year cutting himself off from everything he loved-and he’d  _ just  _ gotten it back. He was in no position to wallow and accept it like Jon had and he didn’t want to. That wasn’t him anymore. It never really was.

“It’s so…” Jon started again. At this point they were sat close together. Martin held Jon’s hands in his lap and squeezed as he wordlessly pleaded with him to leave, “It’s so loud out there. The agony, the terror I can see it all so much more clearly,” he said.

Martin’s heart dropped and he squeezed their hands together a little bit tighter, “I’m sorry,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster. Martin’s head was spinning, the same tickling rage he had about killing Elias crept up inside him again.

“No it’s,” Jon said with a sigh. His eyes were shut and Martin watched him intently. Then Jon’s eyes shot open, “I love you-I just-” another breath, “I need more time.”

Martin fully believed neither of them registered what was just said. Jon was exhausted, not thinking, surely he didn’t mean to blurt it out in that way.

His rage from earlier quickly melted as he felt his heart beat pick up, but now wasn’t the time, and he had to say something of intelligence before the silence lingered too long, “It’s alright,” he said, “It’s alright I’m good at waiting,” and of course Martin meant that, his whole life had been waiting for Jon.

He watched Jon’s face to see if realization hit anywhere in it, then there it was. Jon’s eyes went just a little bit wider for a moment and the softest of smiles crept onto his exhausted face, “thank you,” he said.

Then it was back to business, back to talking about the apocalypse. Back to realizing the sentience of the tape recorders. A moment between them never lasted too long, but that made them all the more special.

They laid in the small bed later, hands held in one another’s, Martin looked over to see Jon seemingly asleep. His breathing felt steady enough at least and the constant creases that lined his face were softer than usual. So Martin took in a breath, now was as good a time as any.

“I love you too,” he whispered and then closed his eyes. He felt the hand in his squeeze slightly. Martin smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I know there's a lot of reasons people have been listing saying that wasn't the first time Jon said it but like.....for ironically those same exact reasons I feel like it was.....
> 
> also this ending is cheesy i know but i'm SOFT and worried for my BOYS
> 
> Regardless, thanks for reading I hope you liked it. :D
> 
> title from the song Practice in Patience by The Parlor Mob!


End file.
